Acceptable Treachery
by The Full Neko Alchemist
Summary: Malik’s more devious than he lets on. [Complete]
1. Hurt Feelings

**Disclaimer**: Wild Arms 3 and all associated characters are not mine.

-o-

Malik was working alone. He'd had an argument with Melody, again: she had been pressing his busy self for an answer which affirmed her beauty, and got nothing but a strained 'ah' in response.

When that had happened, Leehalt had been watching from the upper floor, and he'd been a witness as Melody smacked Malik full-force across his right cheek. And with his body frame, Malik had felt it, and he continued to feel it even as Leehalt was knocking at his door. In fact, he still found it painful and wanted to rest. But he had to let Leehalt in, there was no choice in the matter, and he felt his cheek throbbing as he ran, grabbing his hem to avoid a fall. Then he unlocked the door, pushing thoughts of the smack out with it, and stepped aside.

"Something tells me this isn't a social call," he said merrily.

"Correct. I came to tell you to apologise to Melody," Leehalt said finally. "I don't care what your problem is, but the two of you will argue over it in your own time."

"She called me a pig," Malik said, and then he quivered. "All I did was, I _may_ have called her fat." he raised his hands in protest, "But she's the one who asked me! She just doesn't like the truth."

"Malik, you studied the human form. You know she isn't fat."

"No, but I thought it was funny."

Leehalt was a picture of narrow-eyed indifference. He knew Melody was a woman, noticed her as such, but Malik… He knew, of course; but Malik was strange. He had intelligence, humour (Leehalt loathed this above all, besides Werner), and cleanliness, yet also a constant need for assurance. And when someone talked to him on personal matters, Malik just smiled goofily and wandered off. He never listened.

Only, Malik did. He just chose not to listen to women. To listen meant to grow close, and growing close to someone meant affection, and in that he wasn't interested. As if he could grow close to women other than Mama…

"Malik, do you know why she was mad?"

Malik shook his head.

"You hurt her feelings."

"You do it all the time," Malik said crossly.

"But not to those I work with."

"Ha! Werner says hi." And Malik waved his right hand, making a mouth like a sock puppet.

"Malik."

"What?"

"Shut up."

Leehalt's reply had been the wrong one. Both knew the catchwords that put a stopper in Malik's mouth.

"Bored now. Wanna grab lunch?" Malik asked.

"Malik, you don't grab lunch."

"I do."

"You eat with your _fingers_?"

"That too. Don't you?"

"I'm normal. You aren't."

"Nope, I'm sweet fifteen again," said Malik, turning back, "and I want my beauty sleep. But you're not going to watch, I hope. Don't know where to look these days."

"Of all the ridiculous…"

"You're blushing!" Malik was smiling. "Look, you actually have some blood left. Who'd have thought it?"

"Shut up. You're starting to tick my gourd."

"What?" His head was cocked. "What, that actually means something in Ballack Rise? What's it mean?"

"You sound like a parrot. What, what, what. Go splice yourself."

"Come on, tell me!"

"All right, look. If I tell you, that'll be the end of it, because I'm tired and need a break from your constant whining. And if we're to remove these Guardians at all, I need the energy to think."

"All right," Malik said humbly.

But he was more concerned with what Leehalt thought of him. He felt close to Mama and didn't want to dirty himself with a woman's company, but a man wasn't a woman, and thus Mama would be happy. And him; he didn't want to be a disloyal son. Perhaps something more: the centre of her life, as she was his. And he liked to feel loved, but he couldn't wait forever. That was why he teased everyone – he wanted them to react, to chide him, scold him, and congratulate him when he did well.

And then came the plan. It was impulsive, strange, but felt _right:_

"I'm bored," he whined. "Gimme a story."

"Go to bed."

"But I don't want to."

He was looking not for a tale but company. The room was cold without Mama and he hated being alone in such a spacious place; Yggdrasil was full of hidden crooks and chambers, and the tower itself dwarfed most ordinary ruins, above ground and below. He hated going up and down, up and down. It was boring. That was why he had a habit of using the Teleport Orb. Leehalt disapproved of ancient artefacts being used for 'personal business'.

But he liked Leehalt's company.

It ticked all his boxes. Male, easy to annoy, intelligent, dominating, pays attention. He found it pointless to challenge those who couldn't give a fight. Things were always uninspired.

And it was ok, what he was feeling. So long as he put his Mama first.

"Then I'll join you," Leehalt said, "It's been a few years since we last talked."

They headed to Malik's room. On time, and as planned. Books arranged by title, date, and time, a mahogany desk standing in the corner. Stuffed bunnies, fluffed lions and blue-fur whales with aghast eyes on the pillow, the mattress, the chair. No, those eyes were Leehalt's. As if there was any water for those whales… Though, now he thought it, a room revealed a lot for one's character. He'd been expecting bunny pictures on the walls, not just the bed.

"Leehalt," Malik said. "I wish you'd say you loved me once in a while."

That wasn't what he meant, but they both knew what it sounded like; but somehow Leehalt was remaining anyway, and Malik was thankful. He thought he'd never seen anything as sour. He looked away and grasped his hands.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant…"

"I know what you meant. Malik, my mother is alive, but I could imagine there would be adverse effects to one's…"

"I'll have you know my psyche's perfectly fine. She says hello, by the way."

"I meant your mother."

"She's fine and dandy."

There was a pause.

"Are you serious?" Leehalt said finally.

"Course. She's alive up here." Malik tapped the side of his head. And she was alive back in the lab, not that Leehalt needed to know. Nor Melody.

Malik then laughed. Leehalt wasn't a woman (so he hoped, it'd explain the constant anger), which made him fair game. Get close to thy enemy, catch them unawares till they knew you better than you yourself. Then lure them in. And since Leehalt was a man, Malik could mess with him all he desired and never once feel bone-shaking guilt. If he couldn't have a woman, he'd have a man. And children always know how to get what they want. Be it attention, candy drops, or love.


	2. At Green Lodge

**Disclaimer**: Wild Arms 3 is not mine.

-o-

In the days that followed, Melody journeyed from Yggdrasil to Green Lodge, where she stopped to gather her thoughts.

She thought it strange. Leehalt wasn't one for small conversation, but he'd been focusing on Malik, who followed it like religion. The lodge was clean, indoors and out; someone lived there, except the knowledge of this gave her an involuntary shudder. They were the only three in the enclave, and no one but she came here. Only, there was the smell of log fires. She never lit one. The scent would work its way into her clothes, and she had no time for that. It was unfeminine. Not that Malik and Leehalt noticed, or cared.

Topping the desk, the bottle of gin from Jolly Roger looked tempting. But Melody never drank it. It stood there on ceremony, with a label dating it from eleven years ago; one before the explosion. Cold, she went to take a quilt from the chest when the door creaked. She looked up; the sunlight was bright, but Leehalt had appeared in the shadow of the doorway.

"Yes?" she said coldly.

Melody's eyes narrowed. Leehalt never came here; he rarely left Yggdrasil. The lodge was her place. Surrounded by a name-giving forest and in the crux of snow-capped mountains, she could leave behind the pressure of work. And those she worked with. However, she was tired of being the last to gain attention. Malik this, Malik that. One would think he was a child, not a scientist.

Leehalt said nothing. He watched.

She fastened the lid, hands shaking, and stood.

"Shouldn't you go home? I thought you never let Malik play unsupervised."

"He's asleep. I want to know why you left so quickly," Leehalt said.

Melody grunted. He knew why she'd left; it was his words that'd pushed her away. He would deny it, of course, but she knew how people played mind games. They ignored you, and then made you feel wanted. Her fingers coiled and nails dug into her palms, painful but bloodless; the rage she felt was like an involuntary force of nature, except the means of its uprising gave her an involuntary shudder. Malik was easily mistreated, and seemed to put it down to her 'feminine ways', but Leehalt could only bear her temper so much. She had no idea why he was so withdrawn. The two were so different; Malik was young, pure (ha!), and Leehalt was a bitter cynic. Maybe that was why they worked so well together.

"I've seen the way he looks at you," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"Malik," said Melody and, remembering the shared glances she'd seen at Yggdrasil, added, "I'm not mad. I know what the two of you were doing. You were in his room all night. Why is it when I need to talk, you're busy, but when he bawls and cries, you go running? It's because I'm a woman, isn't it? You always say emotions are for the weak, and because I'm female –"

Leehalt frowned. "You are wrong," he said.

"Then prove otherwise."

Leehalt had an explanation, finally, though he wouldn't reveal it till Melody had stopped uttering such nonsense. Not that she knew what he was thinking.

"We talked about his mother," Leehalt said. "How and why? That's none of your business."

Melody was staring at the doorway, and Leehalt came in to take a seat, his robes piling over onto the floor. She sat on the bed.

"How can it not be? His problems always affect us. The past is the past and that's where it stays. It's been ten years, Leehalt. Who knows how many since he lost his mother, yet she's there. Ruining everything. You don't even know, do you? Malik never looks at a woman. He invited you to his room."

Scarcely concerned and occupied with thought, Leehalt fingered his scarf and rearranged it over his mouth.

"You thought the two of us were… Malik and I?"

"I don't know," said Melody. "The way he feels, it's unnatural."

She sighed. For his part, Leehalt was content in a hidden smile, which remained so until he lost the desire to hide it. He laughed, dry and hoarse, and said, "Such preposterous nonsense. Malik I expect to find amusement in this drivel, but you? Melody, you possess a semblance of intellect. I must say this behaviour is quite pitiful. Though, I never knew you were so creative."

"Except creativity is make-believe, is it not?" said Melody. "Leehalt, I'm sorry, but I know how people feel. I've had enough practice. Now, will you tell me what it is that kept you up all night?"

She pursed her lips, rested her hands and waited for a reply. To her, Leehalt looked troubled. Then he raised both hands on and shrugged his head.

"No. What Malik told me, he revealed in confidence."

"Well, what if I said I could make it worth your while?"

Leehalt eyed her, and said, "I would ask why you keep this from me."

"I wasn't trying to lie. I merely suggested –"

"That I agree to blackmail," Leehalt said quickly. "But Melody, I am older than you. I believe the way they phrase it is 'don't fuck with me'. If I cannot rely on you here, what if the worst happens and the drifters come to Yggdrasil? They will find us, eventually. I would like to think I could trust you to cover my back."

"The only person you trust is yourself," Melody said assuredly. "Malik wants your attention, yes?"

"Correct."

"And what flowers from attention? Love."

"You talk of romantic love. I feel nothing."

"But Malik doesn't have our experience. He'll want something to hold."

"To replace his mother," Leehalt finished.

"Exactly."

Shifting on the mattress, the female prophet adjusted her hair, feeling indignantly ridiculous. Leehalt was pulling a Gimel Coin from his cloak, and he balanced it on thumb and forefinger before flipping it into the air.

"Melody, I am aware of his illness," he said, "but the only person being fooled is you. Malik and I are not having sexual relations. I find love repugnant."

"Pardon me for saying this, but you loved, once. Back when you were young. And Malik still is."

"And that is precisely why he needs attention. Melody, you are sound in body and mind. Be more considerate. I'll take my leave, but keep such unwanted thoughts to yourself. They do nobody any good."

The light was blinding as Leehalt stepped outside. It made him even paler, and Melody hid her concern as she too got up and made the journey home. Malik, or Leehalt, or Malik and Leehalt, seemed content to lie to her. Leehalt, she reminded herself as he ran after him, was older, yes, but necessarily not as wise. If, as he claimed, he never loved, how could he recognise it? Melody watched silently as he walked ahead. She'd seen the look in Malik's eyes; and Leehalt knew this, tolerated it. Malik wanted love, but he didn't care about destroying their relationship in order to get it.


	3. No Other Woman

**Disclaimer**: Wild Arms 3 is not mine.

-o- 

Keeping himself in the background, Malik kept still in the saloon till he waded through its tobacco smoke. His eyes stung: they were watering. Each table was ringed with card-sharks; every man's gaze followed him across the room. Needing secrecy, he moved to a dark corner. His crevatte was too tight: he thumbed it loose and dug his hands in his pockets. Coming in his usual attire would be foolish. Stupid. And he was too clever for that. But for what he had in mind, a backwater place was needed: nobody would question him too much.

A silver-haired man passed his hiding place, followed by three ladies so similar they could be sisters; and all were blonde. Blonde and blue-eyed. The man went upstairs, the women following and, with a quick reach, Malik pulled the youngest aside. She could be no older than sixteen. None of the others seemed to notice her absence: he'd observed them for a while now and knew their routine. They were perfect. A set of jars stood upon the nearest shelf. He inhaled the smoky air and frowned; the sooner, the better. He wanted to get out of this place.

"Is there something you want?" said the young lady. "It's getting late. I have to work."

"It won't take long," said Malik, and he glanced elsewhere. He wasn't used to this, "It's just… I've been watching you for a while now and… and… Would you like a drink?"

There was silence.

"No." The woman looked suspicious. "I'm busy. Now if you don't mind..."

"Fair enough."

Twiddling his thumbs, Malik looked around then came to a decision. He offered her his hand.

"Don't worry," he said. "I wash."

She took it to be polite, shook, and then left. Her face told Malik she thought him a little odd, but that was all right; Melody thought him to be worse.

The woman went up, and he followed; he kept back, watching as she was greeted by her sisters and taken inside a room. The door closed and he was left alone. Smoking was a disease, he hated it; but he was used to dealing with far more virulent symptoms. He found it remarkable how something as tiny as a germ could lay, even kill, a being as big as a human; even one of those sand-creatures. He went back down and ordered a drink. He had his plans, and none of them involved Guardians.

Malik knew he couldn't drag someone off by the end of a gun. Not only was he physically imbalanced, it was dangerous. It would put him in the open. The last thing he needed were those drifters knowing of his presence, or Leehalt knowing he'd been sighted. He smiled: Leehalt didn't have to, he thought.

"And if he's jealous, it's his own damn fault," he muttered. "Following me, lecturing me. Should keep his fool mouth shut."

He enjoyed the small freedoms he had. He could do what he wanted. There were no adults telling him what to do, where to go. And he took dark pleasure in knowing he could kill everyone in this bar and there was nothing they could do. But, were he truthful, he liked being told what to do. With Mama gone, to be instructed gave him order. Perhaps that was why he was so eager to please. This man wasn't Father; he'd not take Mama away. Leehalt was better than Father because of that . And Leehalt was clever; he'd learnt things from him. Father had always made an effort, but Malik, for obvious reasons, was never interested.

Though, he didn't think Leehalt would understand the truth behind his father's death. Perhaps it was better that way.

Malik had only been at a table for little under an hour when there was a scream. People were shocked, jumped from their seats; he was quiet and thoughtful. That girl seemed to have had it, at last. And as the eldest lady raced down the stairs, Malik failed to see the evil in his actions; he wasn't that sort of person. Nor did he care.

"Is anyone here a doctor?" said the woman; she looked fear-stricken.

Malik watched from his table.

"My sister's collapsed!"

He whistled a rhyme.

"We've tried waking her up but…"

And twiddled his thumbs.

"I think she's dying!"

The woman cried slightly and turned to the wall, people following her with their eyes. Malik could do nothing but feel smugly important as he plonked his boots on the table, looked around, and sat on the knowledge nobody would come to her aid. Little Twister was his hometown; he knew there was a lack of medicine. It was all about ARMs, liquor and outlaws. If Calamity Jane were real, she'd come from Little Twister.

He was the only one capable of saving that girl's life, and he wouldn't. He had plans, and none of them involved the survival of some backwater scarlet woman. Mama was far more important. Wouldn't she be proud of how far he'd come? That was why this was necessary. And, he added quickly, it wasn't as if he was the only one; Melody had kidnapped that girl. If Leehalt shouted at him, he'd point that out. And sulk.

"Where is she?" he said, knowing the answer.

"You're a doctor?" said the woman.

"Course."

"Thank goodness! Let me put this clearly." They headed upstairs. "We were just chatting, and then she fell. I checked her temperature, but I don't know how accurate I was. We don't have a thermometer."

"It was all you had. Was she hot?" he said. "She could be dehydrated. I heard there's a bug doing the rounds."

"I don't know. How should I know? I'm not a doctor."

"Ah, but you're happy enough to take her temperature. Not that it's a bad thing. But I'm here now so..."

"You all right?"

They stopped before a door, with '03' a stained mark on the wood where brass numbers would have been. Malik shook his head, and said. "It's just I'm off hours, so all my tools are at home. I live on the outskirts, see, so I have to travel in when I want anything. I'm near the left gate, on the southern end."

It wasn't a lie; his house was there, near the well. But it was boarded up. Nobody could go in or out. He'd not gone there since Mama died. He didn't want to. He'd take her somewhere beautiful, not to dirty little towns like this. Leehalt understood; that's why they got along. Melody pushed him for details of life with Mama, but Leehalt just listened. He was good. Mama would approve. Except…

"Take me to your patient," he said, laughing.

Was it wrong? He loved his Mama, but Leehalt was…

Malik cared nothing for any potential outbreak, save the thought of leaving no witnesses. The thought of Leehalt and him... They were so different; Leehalt and he, Leehalt and Mama. Leehalt was dark, Mama fair. But that was why it was good. Leehalt made him laugh. And he'd not laughed for a long time. Not truly. But Malik couldn't lie; he wouldn't be with Leehalt for who he was. He'd only be there because Leehalt gave him attention (Malik knew he started arguments, debates, conversations – misbehaved), and from them gained the attention he'd lacked since Mama died.

But he so very, very confused.

If Mama was perfect, Leehalt had to be perfect.

The woman frowned, but said nothing. She obviously valued Malik's help over his offensive behaviour.

"Are you quite all right," she said.

"I'm fine," Malik snapped. "I was thinking."

"About what?"

"For what I'm here for; your sister." And he smiled weakly. "Sorry. I shouldn't have took it out on you. It's been a long day and I'm tired. Still, that's no excuse. We all have our problems, some more than most. My boss'd be mad should he know I'm here. Still, live and let live, ne?"

"Are you going to see my sister or not?"

"Course. I'm just thinking. If she's ill, I'll have to take measures. If it's contagious, then.." He stopped. He'd left something downstairs. "Eh, it's all right. Kitty can handle it," he added. Sending a cat was something only he'd do, but it was better than infecting the whole of Little Twister.

The woman pushed the door open and Malik saw the sixteen-year-old lying on the floor. She'd not been moved (which was sensible), and her face was red round the edges. He knelt beside her and looked at the clock on the wall. It was getting late. Leehalt would be wondering where he was. He pulled out a cloth and knelt to dab her forehead. Then he checked her breathing. Diseases were wonderful little things.

"Something's giving her a fever," he said. "I could take her to my surgery. All my stuff's there; I could treat her better."

"Depends," said the woman. "Will she survive?"

"She might. Or she might not."

He looked at his right hand and smiled. 'Shake Malik's hand, your arm drops off,' said Melody. How accurate she was.

-o-

Little Twister was left behind, and Malik placed down the syringe. Much as he would have liked for this girl to have an ordinary life (he liked to think he took no enjoyment from this), he needed subjects. Diseases had to be studied, learnt. And he needed something else from her – for Mama. So really, her life was worth nothing. The need to understand nanotechnology was served too; they'd contained the disease. They'd worked. And he'd removed what was needed for his clones. Then she'd woken, and realised he wasn't who he claimed, and struggled. So he'd disposed of her.

It was her fault, Malik thought, not his. He hadn't wanted to fight. She could have been a superior being. But no…

He was cleaning his instruments when something collided with the door.

Again and again it pounded, and the noise became louder and the beats faster. It was fortunate he'd locked the door, but even if the metal stood he wondered how Leehalt knew of his presence so soon. Perhaps he'd been seen, but who was he to know?

"Malik, let me in," said Leehalt's voice.

Malik's face paled. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now.

He hastily wiped his bloodied hands on the back of his lab coat. The girl's body was right before him. He hadn't time to put it away.

"The door. Open it."

"Can't," he said. "Lost the key."

And outside, Leehalt's fingers began to tap.

Malik grabbed the trolley and hastily pushed it towards the antechamber. Three more yards and he'd be clear, but when the door opened he knew there was no way he could act normal. Leehalt was standing there, watching him. The temperature had dropped and a shiver ran down his spine, the sensation heightened by the Panakeia flowing amidst his blood. He swore through clenched teeth, and did so again. He forced himself to calm down; Leehalt would happily have killed Werner, Melody had put that woman's life in danger. They weren't so different. And Leehalt listened to him. He would understand. He had to.

"Well," said Leehalt to Malik. "You have been busy."

"It's not what it looks," Malik said.

"I would like to know how and why."

"She's dead."

"Obviously."

As Leehalt said that, Malik noticed that his eyes were closed. His lips were down-turned, but he Leehalt wasn't angry; he seemed upset. Between them, drawing Leehalt's attention, was the dead body on the trolley. Malik pushed it away, pushing with more force than he was used to. How could he be so foolish?

"Malik, do you remember what we discussed all those years ago?" said Leehalt.

Leehalt waited for a reply. But Malik was looking at the table, gaze held by a red nail. Perhaps he had imagined it. He would awaken, find it was morning, and run out to the lake to clear his thoughts. Moving in a slight awkward gait, he made his way round the trolley to a shelf full of reports. He flicked through a file and put it back. Leehalt would speak anyway; he was good at remembering the past.

"Tell me," he said.

"No," said Leehalt, and he turned to the door. "I told you then. Obviously, my trust was misplaced."

"It wasn't, sir!" Malik said keenly.

"The worst thing to feel… Disappointment. I was going to talk, Malik."

"Oh?"

"About your mother."

Malik grabbed his coat, bunching the material with his fingers, letting go only to do it again and again without even knowing what he was doing. He walked, dividing the need to get rid of this body, source of all his trouble, and to appease Leehalt as quickly as possible. Mama would understand, Leehalt should understand. But the look on his face was anything but. Leehalt was disgusted, and he couldn't take it. Malik couldn't even remember Leehalt's presence until he began to say:

"Malik, we are human. All of us. We do not kill each other. To do so is little more than barbaric. We do not kill life, we extend it. That is our mission; that was why the Council existed. Our work is for the better of man. Humanity will be evolved. We will be free of the Guardians and this planet: no longer shall we be forced to hope and pray."

"I know, but she…"

_"We are not murderers!"_

Ready to reply, but scared of Leehalt's rage, Malik ran. He locked himself in the backroom and remained in his happy-corner of denial. He hadn't murdered anyone – she would have murdered him! Leehalt was supposed to understand…

"We are stronger," Leehalt said. His voice was informative and composed. Malik couldn't ignore it. "You could have handled her as easily as she was brought. Yet, you resorted to the emotions of a primitive beast. You are anything but human. Humans can control their emotions. You're just a child."

"No I'm not!" Malik protested.

"And you always have been. Even when I first met you."

"Shows what you know."

"Melody would agree."

"So?"

"Do you think your mother would like what you've become?"

"No, but she'd understand it."

Because Malik was caught behind a door, he couldn't see Leehalt, just hear his words; however disappointed they were. Off-screen, Leehalt said, "I know how you feel, Malik. About me, about her. I know everything."


	4. Truths

**Disclaimer**: Wild Arms 3 is not mine.

-o-

Malik waited till Leehalt had left, to ponder and shun and change his clothes. He couldn't walk through Yggdrasil covered in blood, and the pools of red within his room and clothes were a reminder; so he told himself Mama would understand everything he did, that it was for her, and carried sterile instruments back to their shelves before waiting for Janus.

The bullet wounds he'd suffered had long since healed, and he ran his fingers over the scars and looked forward to giving Janus a hard time. The drifter was thick and unknowing, but at least the jobs he did were successful. And knowing the final outcome, he knew that no matter how much energy Janus hid away, it was futile; they would download the ancient knowledge and transform the world and its people into a state in which they could survive. When Janus had carried him away from Lunatic Garden he'd felt sick, and he loathed taking the help of one so simple, but that in turn had allowed him to survive, and to help Mama. So he sat on the edge of the stool and watched and waited.

He waited as patiently as he could, locking his fingers, crossing his legs, anything to put off the impatience he felt. And then the door opened and Janus strode in, bright-eyed and with a cocksure attitude Malik looked forward to dispelling.

"What's up with the old guy?" he was asked. "Saw him coming out of here, muttering somethin'. You piss him off?"

Malik stood up at once and paced round and round, looking at Janus under his fringe of blond hair until he brushed it aside. Janus was expecting him to grit his teeth, only he smiled and clapped; but he couldn't put down the anger he was feeling.

"It was something I said," he told Janus. "Foolishly." Then he said, "So how'd it go? Find anything interesting? Any ladies you've got your eye on?" He looked Janus up and down. "Or were you off drinking? I could do with a drink. I'm parched. Got any rum?"

"You don't drink."

Malik took his hand out his green long walking-scarf and his fingers twitched. The air was electric, and Janus doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"What are you-?"

"Bored," said Malik, with a deceptive smile.

He ceased activating Gias, watched as Janus was coughing on the floor. He didn't think of it as wrong, or right: it was interesting. But now he was uninterested, and other matters needed attention. He took the drifter by the collar, and he dragged him outside the room, locked it, and left Janus to find his own way.

-o-

He reached the generator to find Leehalt and Melody talking, whispers and movements telling him he was a subject of conversation. And he wasn't pleased; he grasped his fingers and cracked his knuckles, but continued watching. They weren't talking about the generator, or Hyades, or those drifters who'd come and along and shot him just for doing his work. He, Malik Benedict, attracted bad luck. That had to be the only explanation.

Leehalt had not mentioned their conversation since he'd arrived, because he obviously didn't take as much pride in hearing his voice as Melody, who was, yet again, complaining. But she nodded, and then she was looking at him. Leehalt followed, and there was a silence.

"What?" he said to the two, when he found his voice.

"Janus is misleading us," Melody said. "He took an amount of energy from Infinitium's Guardian into his own body, thinking we wouldn't know. A sacrifice isn't supposed to get high ideals. We'd never have hired him, were he to have been of some use."

"I know," he said, and hurriedly continued at the look on Melody's face. "Well, he is untrustworthy. At least I'm predictable."

And Melody laughed.

Malik looked at Leehalt, who looked away.

"Someone's been sucking lemons, I see."

"Check the generator, Melody," Leehalt said.

Things were silent again now. To Malik, Melody's disappointment was not with being ordered (which they were both used to), but with being out of the loop. She was a woman. She loved to talk. She loved herself. But he didn't want to be left alone with Leehalt. That meant they would talk, and he had put that behind him. It was gone.

And now Melody left. She still hadn't forgiven him for earlier.

"Come on," he said. "It's not like I called you ugly."

And she walked off faster. Now he and Leehalt were alone.

"You're not ugly either."

"Shut up, Malik."

"Yes, sir."

"Where's Janus?"

"Otherwise incapacitated."

"Oh?"

"Booze."

"I see. What kind?"

"Blue Rocks Brandy."

"That's from Ballack Rise."

"Course it is. How's the old hometown, by the way? Still in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's over a thousand miles away," Leehalt stated.

"Well strike my map and fancy that."

"You're lying again. Gias was activated just under ten minutes ago."

"No it wasn't."

"The computer says otherwise. Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"You don't know a lot of things," Malik huffed.

"Such as?" Leehalt's voice was dangerously low. "Malik, we need Janus alive. Not dead. Or have you forgotten that? Do I have to make it so you can't set foot outside Yggdrasil?"

"You're just mad about earlier. Really, sir, you should let it go."

"I have. You can't. That, Malik, is the problem. You might be willing to betray the memory of your mother. I will not. I lost someone I love; I know what it feels like. Your mother is dead, and you can't understand that. Love your mother, not some stranger."

"She's not dead – she's sleeping. When we go far away, we're just sleeping. We'll always come back someday."

"She will never come back. Even if she does, what will she think of you?"

"She'll see all I've accomplished and congratulate me," said Malik. "Which is more than I can say for some."

"Now you're fooling yourself. Malik, however much I love you, as a friend, your mother will always love you more. Don't betray her memory."

Malik said nothing. He moved his foot and looked around, anywhere except at the one place where he'd feel guilty. He'd never faced limits; Mama had always loved him, and he knew Leehalt would accept his work, no matter how intolerable it was. No matter the lack of ethics, so long as it would improve humanity. He may be betraying Mama's memory, so Leehalt said, but at least he never lied to himself. And with the drifters heading to Yggdrasil, perhaps one of them would understand.

-Fin-


End file.
